My First Roadtrip
by Pisces
Summary: Lupin and Jigen friendship story, based on events that may or may not have taken place in Lupin III: Episode 0 “First Contact”.
1. First Impressions

_**My First Roadtrip**_

_Summary: Lupin and Jigen friendship story, based on events that may or may not have taken place in Lupin III: Episode 0 "First Contact".  
__Rating: K+  
__Disclaimer: ©, Monkey Punch.  
__Chapter Name: First Impressions  
__Other Notes: For those who haven't seen First Contact, a quick overview of it's plot: the tale of the Gang's first meetings of each other, but quite possibly just a bunch of cleverly spun B.S. by Lupin himself. This story assumes it actually happened. All you really need to know is that it takes places in New York, and by the end of the movie they all went their separate ways 'cept for Lupin and Jigen. I highly recommend First Contact to any Lupin fan that hasn't seen it. It's amazing._

When Lupin first encountered Jigen Daisuke, he thought of him only as a rather difficult obstacle, one standing in between him and what he wanted. It kept him from thinking of Jigen as an actual person. Jigen Daisuke played a dangerous game and he was far too skilled to be safely or easily incapacitated. It would have been a shame to have to kill him. Even though the few times they had actually come across one another had always ended with them shooting at each other, Lupin found he _liked_ this Jigen Daisuke.

Jigen was... _exceptional._

And Lupin liked exceptional things, be it objects or people.

Lupin himself was exceptional (and ever so modest too!), and it was extremely rare for him to come across someone who was as good as what they did as Lupin was good at what _he_ did. And for the first time perhaps ever, Lupin wanted a partner, as long as that partner was Jigen Daisuke.

Too bad he had to come packaged in a grumpy American, despite his distinctly Japanese name.

He'd have to remember to ask him about that...

---

Arsene Lupin III had been right about him – he _wouldn't_ have survived much longer.

...And that's all Jigen was going to say about that.


	2. 1835

_**My First Roadtrip**_

_Summary: Lupin and Jigen friendship story, based on events that may or may not have taken place in Lupin III: First Contact.  
__Rating: K+  
__Disclaimer: ©, Monkey Punch.  
__Chapter Name: $18.35_

"Have you ever been to Nice?" Lupin picked up a pack of cigarettes from the wide variety displayed before them seemingly at random – Gauloise – and let it dangle between two fingers as he gave it a sniff, before placing it back in its designated spot.

Jigen hmm'ed deep in his throat, handed stuffed in his pockets and lanky form slouched in what Lupin was fast coming to realize as the dark haired American's default 'at ease' position. The gunman didn't bother to look in Lupin's direction; instead he continued to gaze at the array of nicotine as if it might hold the secrets of life.

Lupin picked up another pack – Lucky Strike this time. "You know, France's Nice?"

"I think I might have killed a man there once. Long time ago."

It was Lupin's turn to hmm this time. "I don't think that counts." He shook the pack a bit and sniffed, then turned it upside down and repeated the process. "Beautiful coastal city, Nice. Sunny beaches and the weather this time of year is exceptional."

"Huh." If possible, Jigen seemed to slouch even further. "Sounds nice."

"Good!" Lupin clapped his hands together once happily, partially squashing the box of cigarettes between his palms. "It's settled then."

"-but I'll have to pass."

"Whaaa?" Lupin gaped, fumbling to keep a hold of the Lucky Strikes. "But why?"

Jigen ducked his head and remained silent, but that didn't keep Lupin from noticing the subtle tightening of his jaw muscle. The man's shoulders were tense underneath his suit jacket.

Without looking, Lupin placed the crumpled Lucky Strikes were the Marlboro were suppose to be, eyes locked on his new acquaintance's bowed head. "Jigen. I'll pay for everything. Hotel, planes tickets. It'll be the perfect place for an easy first heist. Tell me, what could possibly be keeping you in New York? Is there _anything_ keeping you in New York?"

Lupin knew he had won when an eye peeked out at him from beneath the brim of that ever-present hat, but had to wait as Jigen searched the thief's beseeching and open face for _something_ – Lupin didn't know what – before Jigen sighed, coming to the same conclusion.

"Fuck it. When do we leave?"

Lupin's returning grin was wide. "Grab your cigarettes and let's go. We got a plane to catch in five hours."

Jigen snorted, but made no move to comply. "You're friggin full of yourself, Lupin the Third."

Lupin's grin grew into a full blown smile, genuinely amused. "And you're grouchy and twisted. Now that we know each other a little better, perhaps we can get moving?"

The total up at the cash register ended up being eighteen American dollars and thirty-five cents: five packs of Pall Mall, super long, and two apple green suckers Lupin threw in at the last minute on a whim. It wasn't until they were both seated in the bright yellow Mercedes Benz SSK parked outside the convenience store, Lupin cheerfully sucking on his newly bought candy, that Jigen spoke again.

"There are a few things I want to pick up at my apartment. Stuff I want to stash if we're going to be gone for a while."

Lupin nodded absently, pawing around the plastic bag on his lap. It crinkled merrily in the midday sun. "I have to store the Mercedes anyway. I have a safe place I like to keep my things when I'm in this part of the Americas. If you want, you can keep whatever it is there as well." While he talked, Lupin cracked open one of the fresh Pall Mall boxes, tapped out a cigarette and temporarily replaced his sweet with it's filtered end. A match appeared and was lit in one smooth flick of his wrist. The thief took a deep satisfying drag before holding it out to the man at his side and popping the sucker back in his mouth.

Jigen hesitated, then took the offered cigarette. He took an equally deep drag, sinking low into his seat. "Yeah... yeah, that'll work fine."


	3. Two Room, One Bath

_**My First Roadtrip**_

_Summary: Lupin and Jigen friendship story, based on events that may or may not have taken place in Lupin III: First Contact.  
__Rating: K+  
__Disclaimer: ©, Monkey Punch.  
__Chapter Name: Two Room, One Bath_

Jigen Daisuke's place of residence was a two room-one bath deal in an average part of town, and contained one couch, a solid wood table, a small television on a box, and one stool sitting lonely in the kitchenette's corner. At least, that's all Lupin could see from his perch on said couch. The second room, the one Jigen had disappeared into upon their arrival, was a complete mystery.

But what he lacked in furniture, he more then made up with dead cigarette butts, large piles of them scattered about most flat surfaces within easy reach. One could easily get the impression the man attempted to live off of cigarettes alone, and from what little Lupin had seen of Jigen's gaunt frame underneath that well worn suit of his, that might not be far from the truth.

After a few minutes of uneventful knee jiggling, Lupin decided to explore, only to find there really wasn't much more to be had then what his initial once-over had gleaned. As he wandered, Lupin lit up a cigarette, savoring the relatively new taste of a Pall Mall. He had never tried that brand before, and found it surprisingly appealing, but not enough to replace his usual choice of addiction.

The room was dark, and when Lupin cracked open one of the blinds, it cut a dusty beam of light through the air, forming a bright patch on an equally dusty floor. The scene outside was typical New York from three stories up, car horns and sounds of civilization muted in the quiet room. Lupin inhaled on his cigarette, and let the blinds snap shut at the sound of footsteps from behind. The room returned to it's previous gloom.

Jigen had emerged from the second room, carrying a case slung over one shoulder and smoking cigarette dangling from his lips. The case was guitar shaped, but much larger then any guitar Lupin had ever seen.

Lupin squinted an eye at it. "I never took you for a classical enthusiast."

Jigen merely shrugged, neither a yes or a no.

"So? What's in the cello case? I highly doubt there's actually a cello in there."

There was that hesitation, a pause Lupin was coming to expect whenever he conversed with the gunman, before Jigen laid the case on the tabletop and took a seat on his couch. "Let me show you something."

Lupin blinked, surprised. He truly hadn't expected a positive answer, let alone a demonstration. Nevertheless, that didn't stop him from leaning in eagerly, perching himself on the couch's armrest.

A few clicked latches later, the case's lid was flipped up and open. And indeed, there was no cello inside. In fact, there wasn't even a musical instrument of any kind. Only a gun.

"I only have two firearms with me at the moment. My Magnum and..." Jigen blew out a cloud of smoke, ghosting his fingers along its metal surface. "...this. M40 sniper rifle, A1 model. Military grade, bolt action, .30 caliber with a max effective range of 1500 yards. Past that, you have to compensate."

Compensate? Lupin quirked an eyebrow at the word. He wasn't quite sure he really wanted to know.

"I've had this thing for... shit, a hell of a long time. She's tame, beginner friendly. As for the case, it's _slightly_ less conspicuous then one actually designed for a sniper rifle. And, well, ah... that's it." There was an awkward pause. "I suppose."

The awkward pause stretched itself into an awkward silence. Jigen puffed on his cigarette and lowered his head farther into the safety of his hat.

Lupin leaned back a bit, a grin slowly spreading across his face. "Jigen... Were you just trying to have a_ social conversation_ with me?"

Lupin's laughter very nearly covered Jigen's returning growl.

"I could still kill you, you know." Jigen slammed the lid closed over the displayed firearm, the quick snap of the latches finding home a sharp accent to his obvious agitation.

Lupin shrugged, pushing off his perch and landing lightly on his feet. "Perhaps. But then who would pay for the lovely vacation to Nice I promised you, hum? Which, by the way, we'll be late for if we don't make it to the airport in three and a half hours. So, chop chop. No time to dawdle. Illegal firearms to be stashed and French Rivieras a-waiting, ripe for the plunder."

"...yes mother..."

Lupin's gasp was large and theatrical, hand flying up to cover his mouth in badly feigned shock. "Was that _sarcasm_ I just heard? Jigen, there may be hope for you yet!"

Jigen gathered up his case, slung it back over his shoulder, and walked out of the apartment without a backwards glance.

Lupin struggled to control his laughter, scrambling to catch up. "Oi! Jigen? Come on, Jigen! Wait up!"

The apartment door closed behind the two with a soft click.

---

The 'safe place' Lupin took them to was a nondescript self-storage in the outer fringes of the city, where upon which they met up with a short and stockily built man called 'Eddie' who promptly slugged Lupin in the jaw and accused him of 'trying to sleep with my wife, you fucking sleaze!'

Lupin lightly fingered the side of his jaw and defended himself with a whined 'But I didn't know she was married at the time!'

Then they had both laughed uproariously.

Jigen, who's hand had been laying lightly on the butt of his holstered Magnum since less then a second into the confrontation, raised both unseen eyebrows and mentally lowered his opinion of Lupin's sanity a few points. But, as he eyed the cajoling men, both of which seemed quite pleased with themselves, he came to the stark realization that Lupin had been standing between him and Eddie during the whole supposed argument, _on purpose._

Jigen let his hand fall away from his gun.

Clever. Insane, but clever.

The Mercedes and 'cello' case were stashed in one of the larger storage partitions. Jigen made sure to memorize its location. It wouldn't be hard to come back here and retrieve his possession on his own if the need arose. But, oddly enough, Jigen hoped it wouldn't come to that.

A considerable wad of cash exchanged hands, and a new car, provided by Eddie, was given to them for the drive to the airport. Arrangements were made for the car to be picked up at the airport car lot at a later date.

Lupin had thanked Eddie before they had left, and told him to tell his wife he said 'hello' with a suggestive leer.

Eddie hadn't seemed curious about Jigen's presence, Lupin hadn't bothered with introductions, and Jigen hadn't particularly cared.


	4. Need A Cigarette

_**My First Roadtrip**_

_Summary: Lupin and Jigen friendship story, based on events that may or may not have taken place in Lupin III: First Contact.  
__Rating: K+  
__Disclaimer: ©, Monkey Punch.  
__Chapter Name: Need A Cigarette_

Jigen only had vague memories of Nice, and none of them were pleasant. He hadn't been lying when he said he had killed a man there once, but he had been very young and they hadn't stayed long. At the time, he hadn't even known he was in France, let alone that Nice was a city within it. But the bullet had hit home all the same. Jigen had been good, even back then. He was even better now.

Despite the sour memories Jigen couldn't help but associate with the city, he couldn't deny that from above, at least, it really was beautiful. The surrounding waters were about as blue as any he had ever seen, and palm trees weren't something he had ever associated with France before.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

Lupin's soft voice broke him out of his thoughts. His eyes slid away from the window and he settled himself back into the comfortable slouch he had occupied for most of their flight. "You know my French is complete shit."

"Huh." Lupin furrowed his brow in light confusion, as if the idea had never crossed his mind. "Well, I can help you with that, if you want. And anyway, enough people know English around the world now-a-days that's enough to get by. You'll be fine." Lupin pined his travel companion with a calculating stare, and Jigen fought the urge to shrink back or tense defensively at the sudden intelligence shining in Lupin's dark eyes. Instead he settled with his tried and true method: studied indifference. "Are there any other languages you know besides English?"

A rather simple question, on the surface, but Jigen couldn't help but feel as if Lupin was taking stock. Jigen considered his options. He could flat out lie, he could tell him to fuck off in no uncertain terms, he could remain silent until Lupin got bored and dropped the question, he could be a sarcastic jackass until Lupin got fed up with him and dropped the question...

He opened his mouth before his conscious brain had caught up with him and what came out was in flawless, unaccented Japanese. "I know a little bit of Japanese. Just enough to 'get by'."

Jigen was inordinately pleased by the surprise that flickered across Lupin's face, but made sure not to show it. Innocent indifference. Simply teasing or keeping his distance? He wasn't sure anymore.

"Jigen!" Lupin exclaimed in a tone akin to a small child who just received an unexpected present. Then he himself switched over to equally flawless Japanese. "Are you fluent?"

Again, Jigen answered before his brain could tell him 'no'. "If not, then close enough."

"You're name _is_ very Asian. What's up with that?"

Jigen's mind went blank. His mouth clamped shut. Lupin must have seen something in his expression, because he effected a careless shrug. The both of them were silent during the rest of the landing procedures.

---

Jigen pointedly did _not_ stare when Lupin 'unveiled' their room.

No, 'room' wasn't the right word for it. Suite, perhaps. But even that didn't seem to come close. Separate bedrooms with their own private baths, a walk-out balcony with a prominent view of the Promenades des Anglais and the waters beyond. Hell, even the _kitchen_, the fully furnished kitchen, had it's own partitioned space. All done up in the over opulent feel of the very rich.

Lupin looked smug, taking Jigen's silence as a sign of shock (which it was). "I like to be comfortable when I travel."

Jigen tch'ed quietly. "And how much is this setting you back a day?"

Lupin, arms spread wide as if to encompass the whole suite and everything in it, walked backwards into the room so as to keep Jigen in his sights. "Money is there to be spent, Jigen."

Jigen finally stepped away from the marble tiled entryway (Yes, it had it's own entryway. Jigen didn't know if he should be disgusted or impressed.) and into the living area. He shoes sunk into the thick carpeting, as did the small bag he let drop at his side. Despite himself, he felt his eyes being drawn to the large couch set in front of a decorative glass table. It looked amazingly... fluffy.

Miming a casual stroll, he headed off in its general direction under Lupin's amused and watchful gaze, plopping himself down as if any other piece of furniture would have worked just as well. As he sunk into it's deep cushions, he tried hard not to melt.

Really, with furniture like this already in existence, who needed a bed?

Lupin's head appeared over his shoulder, leaning on folded arms rested on the back of the couch. "Find something you like?"

Jigen blew smoke in his face.

Lupin laughed through his coughing fit. "I have some errands I need to run. It's been a while since I've been back to France. Try not to wander too far from the hotel, if you manage to make it off that couch at all. Oh! And I claim the room on the right, so don't go trying to steal it while I'm gone."

By the time Lupin got out of 'his room on the right', belongings stashed, Jigen had already made himself comfortable on the couch, long form stretched across its full length, ankles crossed and hat pulled low over his face. Lupin's quick 'bai bai' and the click of a locking door were the last things he heard before drifting off to sleep.

---

Jigen snapped from asleep to fully conscious with very little in between, but continued to lay in his languid sprawl until he was sure he was alone. He was unsure of what woke him, and a cursory search about the room revealed nothing glaringly out of place.

Bright, flaring reds bathed the suite in the sun's dying colors. The day was finally ending. It had been incredibly long, starting in New York and ending in Nice, and even after (here he glanced at his watch) an hour and a half nap, he felt worn down.

Taking his hat from his head, he ran a hand through his thick hair, staring down at the dark inner lining of the fedora.

What the hell was he doing in Nice?

A voice that sounded suspiciously like a certain self-proclaimed master thief he had recently met answer back: Why _wouldn't_ he be in Nice?

Why not, indeed?

Jigen's head snapped up. A noise, faint, and, he knew, the source of his wake-up call. Placing the hat back to its rightful place, he watched the entryway, cursing the fact he couldn't see the door from this angle.

The man who entered the room wasn't Lupin, like he had hoped it would be. But the man also had a pistol, so Jigen didn't bother with such silly questions like 'who are you' and 'what do you plan on doing with that gun' and instead dove for the relative cover provided by the nearby kitchen counter. The gun went off, soft – silenced, his mind told him automatically – but still recognizable. His shoulder jerked back and sudden pain blossomed. Jigen grunted through gritted teeth and stumbled the last foot to his destination.

He landed hard against the tile flooring with his right shoulder, but didn't waste any time scrambling to his feet in a low crouch. His hand went back and wrapped around his Magnum, but he hesitated. His Magnum wasn't silenced, like the intruder's pistol was. In fact, his Magnum was rather loud for a gun, in general. He kind of liked this hotel room and it would be a shame to get kicked out of it for firing off firearms.

The man was muttering something in French.

Or arrested, Jigen's mind threw out there as an afterthought.

Oh yes, or arrested.

Jigen's eyes focused in front of him. It seemed the counter he was using as a hiding spot wasn't a counter at all, but instead a fully stocked bar.

The man was no longer muttering in French. He was speaking _loudly_ in French, and moving closer. Jigen ignored him for the most part, taking his hand away from his gun and getting a good grip on the neck of some random wine bottle, until he heard a word he actually understood: Lupin.

Huh.

French, French, French, Lupin, French, French, Lupin, French-

Jigen stood and let the wine bottle fly.

The pistol went off for a second time, a glass hanging upside down above his head exploding. Pieces of glass decorated the brim of his hat, but by that time he was already vaulting over the open bar and his makeshift projectile was shattering directly in the middle of the unknown Frenchman's forehead. Staggered and blinded, the man peddled backwards, his third shot going wild.

Jigen tackled the man with the full force of his sprint behind it, but even that coupled with the man's unbalance was barely enough to topple them both to the ground. It was then that Jigen finally realized the Frenchman was _huge_, tall and broad shouldered. Jigen straddled the man's barreled chest as best he could, fisted the collar of his shirt, and slammed the solid glass tumbler in his right hand into the man's face.

The man howled, reaching for the pistol that had skidded free from his grip in the fall.

Jigen reared back to slam the tumbler down once more, but was stop short as the man grabbed a hold of his wrist, fully engulfing it with his thick fingers. Jigen jerked once, found the hold to be iron tight, and gave his torso a sharp twist, snapping the bony side of his knee up against the man's jaw. It didn't have nearly as much force as the tumbler would have, but it was enough to momentarily distract him, letting Jigen roll his wrist up against the man's thumb joint and out of his crushing grip.

The tumbler came down, and this time Jigen thought he felt bone snap.

The man howled again, spat something in French that sounded suspiciously like a curse, and grabbed a hold of Jigen's left bicep.

Stars exploded in Jigen's sudden white vision.

_Fuck._

He had forgotten about the gunshot wound in all the adrenaline.

His body folded before he could stop himself. The intruder grabbed a hold of his tie and stood, keep his hand clamped around the bloody gouge in Jigen's upper arm. Jigen gaged, the tip of his shoes barely brushing the carpet.

_Fuuuck_.

The man snarled in French, blood dripping from his obviously broken nose. Jigen grinned despite the pain, pleased with his work, and pulled out his Magnum with his free right hand.

The Frenchman promptly dropped him.

What they were left with was a standoff. The man standing with his retrieved pistol, breathing heavily through his mouth. Jigen with his large Magnum, half crumpled on the floor. Cautious and slow, the man back up, eyes locked on Jigen's kneeling form, hand behind his back fumbling with the doorknob. The door clicked open, the man stepped through, then clicked closed. A moment later, Jigen could hear the sound of pounding feet disappearing down the hallway.

Jigen holstered the revolver with a breath of air that was a cross between a sigh and a huff.

Why _wouldn't_ he be in Nice?

Well, he thought he might have stumbled across a rather big reason.

God, he needed a cigarette.


End file.
